


my three a.m. shadow

by dizzy



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Anxiety, M/M, Panic Attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 05:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6225739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The weather fits him right now. It's as comfortable as a worn t-shirt, as Phil's uni hoodie, as a hug from his mum. Nature is sympathizing. It's telling him that it's okay to dwell in this maudlin headspace of his, where tears well in his eyes but don't spill, where his voice feels choked from the inside out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my three a.m. shadow

It's raining, a steady tap-tap-tap against the windows. 

Dan's in his bedroom alone. 

He doesn't have to be. There's a warm body one room away just waiting. Phil's probably worrying. It's too late at night, and he notices when Dan doesn't join him. 

Dan will. He'll make it in there, eventually. Right now the loneliness just feels right. It feels right to sit at the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, face in his hands. When he looks up he can see the lights flickering and filtering through the droplets on the glass. 

The weather fits him right now. It's as comfortable as a worn t-shirt, as Phil's uni hoodie, as a hug from his mum. Nature is sympathizing. It's telling him that it's okay to dwell in this maudlin headspace of his, where tears well in his eyes but don't spill, where his voice feels choked from the inside out. 

It's good that Phil's here. These are the moments that steal his rationale. Left to his own devices, he'd cancel the tour. He'd stay where it's safe, constantly yearning for some unattainable level of personal comfort and creative freedom, perfectionism and cowardice in a way that cannot happen in tandem. He'd let the sense of being overwhelmed sweep him away. He'd feel like he could breathe again in the immediate span after, and then slowly suffocate under the weight of his failure. It's his pattern, it's his modus operandi. 

But the decision is out of his hands, isn't it? The tour will happen. He will get on that plane. He will get on that bus. He will leave this cozy haven behind for eight long weeks. 

And that's why he's sitting here now. That's what's making him feel antsy. He's got too long to deliberate on everything that he will miss. Sure, he's taking the best part with him. He'll have Phil. But he won't have this backdrop of everything familiar and soothing. This is where he recharges. This is his space of solitude, where he can battle his own internal demons without an audience. 

He loves the audience he has. He loves it because he can appreciate it from afar; from _here_. This tour takes him out of his safe space in ways both physical and figurative. 

Would it be too ridiculous to take his duvet with him? Or his pillows? 

His shoulders shake with a bitten off laugh. He's being ridiculous. Phil would say he's ridiculous. Phil would also start figuring out a way to take the damn duvet, if he thought it would make Dan feel better. Phil doesn't always understand what's going on with Dan when he's in his moods, but fuck if he doesn't try to help fix them anyway. Maybe it's just the product of too many fights where Dan couldn't explain and too much frustration on both their parts but he's trying, Phil's always tried. Mostly, now, it actually works. 

The wind picks up outside. It's howling, the rain turning from soothing to violent. Dan's skin prickles with something antsy. His foot jolts against the floor in a quick rhythm. He's breathing harder but can't get enough air. He counts through it. He tries to get outside of his own head. There's a siren, distantly. There's a dog barking. Rain, and wind, and. 

He stands. A floorboard creaks. His legs want to walk him around. The back and forth appeals to him, body wound tight as his mind. What makes it better in moments like this? Not much, really. 

He lets the urge take him around the room once. He stops close to the window and presses his hands against it. The glass is cold and his palms are clammy. He leans in and puts his forehead there too, tip of his nose smushed slightly. It feels good and the rain sounds so much closer. 

_I'm so fucking weird,_ he thinks, and peels back. He wants to laugh at himself but he's afraid the noise would be hysterical. 

He's thirsty now. He walks out of the bedroom and down the hall, hand out to brace against a kitchen door that, as it turns out, isn't even closed anyway. He pours water from the tap and gulps it until there's a slightly sick sloshing in his stomach. 

"Dan?" The light flicks on. Dan winces and turns his eyes away. 

Phil looks sleepy, and concerned. 

"Yeah," Dan says. 

He's shaking a little. Coming down, or still in the throes? He can't really tell. 

Phil's mouth hesitates open, then closed. He's not really sure what to say. Dan sympathizes. 

"Coming to bed?" Phil finally asks. 

Dan just stands there, helpless. It's not a hard question. Why can't he answer it? Embarrassingly, he feels the tears gathering in the back of his throat again. 

"Dan..." Phil's voice is a soft sigh. He holds his arms open and Dan steps into them, clinging hard. Anyone who thinks he doesn't know how to hug hasn't seen him turn into a human octopus when Phil's offering affection this freely. Phil's hand rubs in circles across Dan's back. He smells like warm and sleep. Dan's heart doesn't feel like it's pounding out of his chest quite so much. "I've got you. Come to bed."

The fact that it's no longer a question makes it easier. The rain still pounds outside and nothing wrong is magically made right but in Phil's bed the sheets are more rumpled and the shared body heat makes it warmer and Phil talks and talks until all Dan can hear is Phil over the mantras in his head and somehow, Dan can breathe easier.

**Author's Note:**

> [find me on tumblr](http://slightlydizzier.tumblr.com/post/140892960424/my-three-am-shadow)


End file.
